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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28337070">Gaudete gaudete</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter'>lyrawinter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Christmas fic, Cozy, F/M, Fluff and Crack, plot holes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:02:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28337070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was hard to believe; Kembleford looked like an idyllic village, and in many ways it was, but there also happened many odd things, things that seemed straight out from whodunit books and movies: robberies, anonymous letters… they’d even seen strange green lights in the sky once. </p><p>In her defense, Sansa had to say that Father Seaworth and she didn't stick their noses in other people’s business. Not at all. The mysteries just seemed to find them when they least expected it, as if Father Seaworth and Sansa were two magnets and the mysteries were pieces of iron.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>A fic set in Kembleford, a fictional village from BBC's Father Brown.</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gaudete gaudete</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/petyrbaealish/gifts">petyrbaealish</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, I hope you all are doing well. I intended to post it yesterday, but I finally couldn't. I hope you had a Merry Christmas Eve and Day &lt;3</p><p>This is a crackfic. I've been watching BBC's Father Brown for the past few weeks, and I came up with the idea of writing a Christmas fic set in this universe. Sergeant Goodfellow is the only character from BBC's Father Brown I've included. The rest are characters from GoT, though some of them are inspired by characters from BBC's Father Brown:</p><p>Olenna Tyrell: Mrs Mc Carthy.<br/>Stannis Baratheon: Inspector Mallory.<br/>Davos Seaworth: Father Brown.<br/>Petyr Baelish: Hercule Flambeau.<br/>Sansa Stark: Penelope Windermere.</p><p>English is not my first language. I apologize for any mistakes. Thanks for reading! :-)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Gaudete</i>: Sacred Christmas Song.</p><p>
  <b>Tyrell Cottage. 19th Century.</b>
</p><p>The sweet smell of the scones filled the kitchen when Sansa opened the oven.</p><p>“I trust you’ve not been eating lemon sorbet lately.” Beside her, Olenna gave her a stern look. </p><p>“Of course not, Mrs Tyrell.” Sansa placed the tray with scones on the countertop and gave her a reassuring smile. Everybody in Kembleford knew that Sansa had a sweet tooth and that she loved lemon flavors. Lemon sorbet was her favorite ice cream and she ate it all year round. However, she’d been avoiding ice creams and cold drinks for the past few weeks. The reason was simple:</p><p>There was only one week left until Christmas Eve.</p><p>Christmas Eve was one of the most anticipated days in Kembleford. There were many reasons: it was an opportunity to celebrate with the loved ones and the village looked magical with the holly, mistletoe, ivy, rosemary and fir hanging either side of the windows; the tall tree in the center of the square decorated with ceramic ball ornaments and garlands; and on every street there were wooden life-size figures the craftsmen  had been sculpting from blocks of wood during the past few months: reindeer, Santa Claus with sacks of gifts, nutcrackers, elves…</p><p>But of course, this wasn’t the reason why Sansa couldn’t eat lemon sorbet.</p><p>The reason was that every Christmas Eve, the regional choir competition was held at the church. Choirs from other villages in the Cotswolds came to Kembleford to compete and win the Golden Primula. Even the bishop himself attended, though he never revealed which his favorite choirs were.</p><p>There were three categories in total: </p><p>Children’s choir up to 12 years of age.</p><p>Men’s choir.</p><p>Women’s choir.</p><p>Kembleford participated in the three categories. Father Seaworth, the priest, was also the choir director. Since he was the priest of St. Mary’s Church, Kembleford had won the competition more times than throughout its whole history, being the children’s choir the one winning more prizes so far.</p><p>Sansa had been a member of the children’s choir until she turned 12 years old. It had been over a decade since then, and for the past few years she’d been waiting for her opportunity to join the women’s choir, but there had been no vacancy until this year, when Mr Lannister had surprised his wife Joanna with an around-the-world cruise. They wouldn’t come back until next Spring. Of course, they would be missed, especially Mrs Lannister. She was a sweet woman, and she always did something special for the dwellers of Kembleford during the holiday season. Some years she knitted clothes, usually gloves or scarfs or socks or elf hats with Christmas patterns; other years, she baked ginger biscuits or mince pies or yule logs. She also helped Father Seaworth train the children’s choir.</p><p>Singing had been one of Sansa’s passions since she was very little; baking desserts and solving mysteries were her other favorite things in the world. She often helped Mrs Tyrell and Mrs Lannister bake desserts.</p><p>Father Seaworth wasn’t good at baking, but he also loved solving mysteries, and the mysteries seemed to love both Sansa and Father Seaworth in return to Inspector Baratheon’s dismay. If you had never met Inspector Baratheon before, his severe manner might make you feel intimidated at first, but his tactics didn’t intimidate anyone in Kembleford. He’d been born in the village. Everyone knew that his bark was worse than his bite. Besides, on a few rare occasions, Sansa had even noticed a strange flicker in his eyes, as if he were laughing internally. That made her wonder if maybe he was in fact a very friendly man and he just thought that keeping a stern face would make him look more professional. After all, he spent much time interrogating witnesses and suspects.</p><p>It was hard to believe; Kembleford looked like an idyllic village, and in many ways it was, but there also happened many odd things, things that seemed straight out from whodunit books and movies: robberies, anonymous letters… they’d even seen strange green lights in the sky once. </p><p>In her defense, Sansa had to say that Father Seaworth and she didn't stick their noses in other people’s business. Not at all. The mysteries just seemed to find them when they least expected it, as if Father Seaworth and Sansa were two magnets and the mysteries were pieces of iron. But of course, no matter how many times they told Inspector Baratheon this, he never believed them. It was actually funny the way he reacted every time he found them in a crime scene. He grinded his teeth and mumbled something about not getting paid enough. A couple of times he’d also threatened to lock both of them up in a cell, but he’d never done so.</p><p>Sansa liked Inspector Baratheon, and she knew that deep down he was fond of them too. Okay, maybe they tried his patience sometimes, but Inspector Baratheon must know that they just wanted to help him, right? As the old saying went: two heads are better than one. Then three heads must be so much better than one.</p><p>Inspector Baratheon was just a bit stubborn to admit it out loud. That was all.</p><p>*</p><p>In all her years investigating mysteries with Father Seaworth, Sansa had never been the injured party.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>After baking the scones with Mrs Tyrell, she’d gone back home and learned the terrible news.</p><p>The Tully Tiara, a handmade jewel with teardrop pearls, crystal beads and sapphires, a family relic that had passed down generations, had been stolen from the strongbox. </p><p>Being the elder sister, Catelyn had inherited the tiara from her mother the year she came out into society. Catelyn had planned on giving Sansa the tiara on Christmas day. Next Spring Sansa would be presented at the Royal Court during Queen Daenerys’ Ball. It would be her formal debut into society, and she had intended to wear the tiara. Now she couldn’t.</p><p>Unless they found it.</p><p>The thief must have entered the Stark cottage last night. They knew who he was thanks to the note he’d left in the strongbox.</p><p>
  <i>Find me in the heart of St. Mary</i><br/>
when the church shines with golden primulas.<br/>
Find me before the first song dies.
</p><p><i>The White Raven.</i> </p><p>No one knew who was behind that name, no one knew if it was a man or a woman, but everybody in the country had heard of The White Raven. They were an art and jewel thief. Before disappearing with their loot, they always hid it somewhere near the place where they’d taken it from, and left several clues as in a treasure hunt, so the original owners could get it back. But the clues became more and more difficult as the search progressed, and most people ended up giving up.</p><p>Only one person had managed to solve all the clues and recover several paintings that had been stolen from different museums all over the world during the past few years. That person had smirked the first time a museum had asked him for help. It takes another bird to catch a raven, he’d said smugly.</p><p>Since then, every time an artwork disappeared from a museum, the directors hired him to find them. He was building a reputation as The White Raven’s Nemesis.</p><p>That person was a man Sansa’s father despised. A man that had been in love with her mother and had had a fight with her uncle Brandon.</p><p>A man that was also an art thief.</p><p>Petyr Baelish, also known as The Mockingbird.</p><p>*</p><p>Even though it had been almost twenty years since the last time Catelyn had spoken to him, she sent him a letter asking him to come to Kembleford and help them find the Tully Tiara. Ned had remained silent as she wrote it, but he had been unable to hide the displeasure in his features. </p><p>Nor Catelyn neither Ned wanted to rely on Mr Baelish, but they knew it was their only chance to recover the tiara.</p><p>Sansa, on the contrary, was curious about him. The reporters had speculated much about him. They’d given him another nickname: “the honorable thief” and wondered if he was trying to redeem himself. The reporters loved emotional stories about atonement and they didn’t hesitate to make up some stuff in order to give the audience the kinds of stories that would boost sales.</p><p>No, she wanted to know the real man behind that nickname. She didn’t want to know The Mockingbird. She wanted to know Petyr Baelish.</p><p>*</p><p>He didn’t answer Catelyn’s letter. Three days passed, and The Starks thought that he had ignored it.</p><p>They were wrong.</p><p>When there were only four days until Christmas, someone showed up at his cottage.</p><p>Ned and Catelyn had gone to take a walk, and Sansa’s siblings never answered the door, so she got up off the carpet where she’d been playing with Lady, and smoothed her dress.</p><p>“Stay here, alright?” she told the Northern Inuit. </p><p>Lady wagged her tail happily.</p><p>Sansa smiled at her and petted her head before leaving the room. Her heart beat fast in anticipation as she walked over to the door. She had the feeling that this was Mr Baelish. She didn’t know why, but she thought that showing up without announcing his visit would be the kind of thing he’d do. </p><p>A black-haired man with white temples and gray-green eyes offered her a smile when she opened the door. Something in his expression told her that he was delighted that it was her and not any other Stark who would welcome him into their home.</p><p>“Good morning. A lovely day, isn’t it?” Steam came out of his mouth as he spoke, and Sansa held back her laughter. Yes, it was a lovely day if you love winter, which she did. But she wasn’t so sure that he agreed, judging by the way he was shaking even though he was wearing gloves and a thick overcoat. Probably he must have chosen a woolen hat instead of a top hat, but she could lend him one of her yarn hats. She knitted them herself, and all of them were patterned with mini reindeers, candy sticks or mini snowmen. The laughter she was holding back threatened to bubble from her chest when she pictured him wearing one of those yarn hats.</p><p>He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as if he could read her thoughts and found them amusing. He held out his hand.</p><p>“I’m Petyr Baelish. I think you were waiting for my arrival.” </p><p>“Yes. Sansa Stark.” She took his hand and smiled too, the picture of him wearing a knitted Christmas hat still in her head.</p><p>Mr Baelish gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and Sansa’s smile widened. Something about him drew her in; she didn’t know what it was, but she was willing to find it out.</p><p>“Sansa. It’s a beautiful name.” He let go of her hand.</p><p>“Thank you. My parents aren’t home but it shouldn’t be too long before they come back.” Sansa stepped aside so he could cross the threshold.</p><p>“It’s alright. You can show me the note The White Raven left me in the meantime.”</p><p>“Sure. Would you like some hot chocolate?”</p><p>He flashed her what looked like a playful smile.</p><p>“I confess I don’t have a sweet tooth, Ms Stark, but I think I could use a hot beverage.” He entered the cottage.</p><p>“I can make you tea, if you like.” She offered as she closed the door.</p><p>“No, a cup of hot chocolate sounds good.” He took off his gloves and flashed her a charming smile. </p><p>In a way, he was a dangerous criminal. He knew how to access heavily guarded places and he was probably behind dozens of thefts that remained unsolved. Sansa wondered where he hid the artworks he stole. </p><p>“You’re staring.” Mr Baelish’s soft voice brought her out of her reverie. He put his gloves in his chest pocket and took off his overcoat, his eyes still on hers. There was a flicker in his gaze, as if he were actually pleased.</p><p>She tried not to blush.</p><p>“I was wondering the reason why you agreed to help us,” she told him.</p><p>“Ah. Do you think that because I’m a thief myself I’m incapable of doing good, Ms Stark?”</p><p>“I know you’ve helped several museums to find their stolen artworks.”</p><p>“Indeed.” He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips.</p><p>Sansa didn’t know if he was just teasing or if he was trying to determine whether she was an ally. Of course, she would never throw a spanner in the works; she wanted him to succeed in his search or else her chances to recover the tiara would be practically non-existent. He knew that too, but he must be wondering what her role would be. Would she take part in the search or would she be a bystander?</p><p>She decided to tell him. She stepped forward and extended her arm.</p><p>Her action took him by surprise. He looked down at her hand and then stared into her eyes. He wasn’t wearing gloves anymore, and both of them knew that holding bare hands would be terribly inappropriate. </p><p>“I want to help you find the tiara, Mr Baelish,” she said.</p><p>His face lit up. Slowly, his lips curled into a playful smile.</p><p>“Are you willing to work with a thief, Ms Stark?”</p><p>“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate.</p><p>Mr Baelish took her hand. His fingers were a little cold, but his skin was soft. Sansa didn’t release his hand, and he didn’t lower his arm either. For a brief moment, she felt as if they were just two players in an innocent treasure hunt party. </p><p>“Then, it will be my pleasure,” he said, and the expression in his eyes told her that he wasn’t lying. </p><p>*</p><p>Mr Baelish looked a bit intimidated when he entered the room and spotted Lady. Sansa had thought that Lady would approach them tentatively, just like every time she met someone for the first time, but to her surprise, Lady trotted up to them merrily. Mr Baelish stepped back, probably fearing that the dog would jump on him, but she just rested her head on his right leg.</p><p>Mr Baelish looked up at Sansa, a look of astonishment on his face.</p><p>Sansa didn’t have an explanation for Lady’s behaviour, other than the dog trusted him. She mustn’t have sensed any negative energy, so she’d decided that he was a non-threatening person.</p><p>It was good to know, Sansa thought. She petted Lady on the back and gave Mr Baelish a smile.</p><p>“This is Lady. I think she wants you to pet her.”</p><p>He returned his gaze to the dog. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on the top of Lady’s head. The dog nuzzled his head, encouraging. Mr Baelish paused and after a moment, he gave her a gentle rub behind her ears.</p><p>“She likes you,” Sansa said.</p><p>The look of surprise was still visible on his face, but slowly, a boyish grin crossed his lips.</p><p>“It seems so.”</p><p>*</p><p><i>Find me in the heart of St. Mary when the church shines with golden primulas. Find me before the first song dies. The White Raven.</i> Mr Baelish read the note aloud. </p><p>Lady raised her head and panted slightly upon hearing him. She was lying at Sansa’s feet; her body language showed that she was perfectly comfortable with Mr Baelish’s presence.</p><p>He had relaxed after realizing that it was true that Lady liked him. The hot chocolate also seemed to help. Every time he took a sip of his mug, his lips curled into a contented smile.</p><p>Sansa also felt at ease. It was as if she’d known him for a long time, as if they were old friends.</p><p>Her eyes fell upon the note Mr Baelish was still holding. </p><p>“It refers to Christmas Eve,” she explained. </p><p>Lady lowered her head again and closed her eyes.</p><p>Sansa went on: “There’s a choir competition at St Mary’s Church. The prizes are golden primulas: they are bronze statuettes plated in gold.”</p><p>“I’ve heard of the choir competition.” He nodded. “I’ve also heard of Father Seaworth. He’d solved several mysteries. He could have been a great detective.”</p><p>Sansa wasn’t surprised that she’d heard of Father Seaworth. Every time a choir of Kembleford won, he was interviewed by local and national newspapers. He was probably the most famous dweller in Kembleford.</p><p>“Don’t tell Inspector Baratheon,” she said. “He’s caught us investigating on our own several times and well… let’s say he doesn’t look very happy on those occasions.”</p><p>Mr Baelish folded the note and placed it on the nearest table, chuckling.</p><p>“I suppose he won’t be pleased to learn that the Starks had asked a thief for help instead of reaching out to him.”</p><p>“No.” Sansa sighed. If Mr Baelish weren’t famous, they could say he was an old friend of the family. But as soon as people laid their eyes on him, they’d know that he was The Mockingbird. Sansa didn’t want Inspector Baratheon to feel like the Starks didn’t trust his abilities.</p><p>Mr Baelish’s face softened. He must understand that Sansa liked Inspector Baratheon and didn’t want to hurt his pride or disappoint him. </p><p>“You can tell him that I have more chances to find the tiara because I’m also a thief. You can tell him that I’ll find it easier to get inside his head.”</p><p>Sansa offered him a small smile. It was kind of him to say that.</p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>He tilted his head and cleared his throat.</p><p>“Is the church decorated in a special way on Christmas Eve or is there any kind of ritual?” he asked. “Something that explains why we must look for the next clue that day in particular and not any other.”</p><p>“The sun clock.” Sansa realized. “The bishop brings it every Christmas Eve from Canterbury. He places it in the high altar of St. Mary’s Church before the first choir starts singing, a few minutes before sunset.”</p><p>“Sun clocks cast shadows depending on the elevation angle of the sun,” Mr Baelish said. “The shadow at that time of the day must tell us where The White Raven had hidden the next clue.” </p><p>“Alright. So there’s nothing we can do until Christmas Eve,” Sansa murmured.</p><p>At her feet, Lady was dozing off. Their conversation had lulled her to sleep.</p><p>“You can show me around, Ms Stark.” His face broke into a grin. “I’ve never been in Kembleford before.”</p><p>“I’d love to, but I don’t think my parents will be keen on the idea.”</p><p>“You can ask Father Seaworth to join us,” Mr Baelish suggested.  </p><p>The idea hadn’t occurred to her but it was great actually. Her parents had a high esteem for him. They wouldn’t object if he helped Sansa give Mr Baelish a tour of the village.</p><p>“Alright,” she said. “I’ll visit Father Seaworth after lunch.”</p><p>Mr Baelish opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped when the sound of a key inserting in the door lock reached their ears.</p><p>Their eyes met, and Sansa noticed a change in his expression. It was brief, but for a moment he looked nervous. It had been so many years since the last time he’d seen Ned and Catelyn and they hadn’t parted ways in a friendly way.</p><p>He schooled his features and rose from his seat.</p><p>Sansa also rose to her feet. Her stomach fluttered. She didn’t know how her parents would react when they found them here alone, but it was pointless to reunite with her siblings now and pretend they all had been together.</p><p>She managed to offer Mr Baelish a reassuring gesture, and he tilted his head slightly and gave her a grateful smile.</p><p>*</p><p>As she’d imagined, her parents weren't pleased to find them alone, but Lady’s presence seemed to soothe them a little. They seemed to understand that Lady wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor if Mr Baelish were a threat.</p><p>Sansa’s siblings also seemed curious about Mr Baelish, especially Arya and Rickon.</p><p>“What’s the most valuable thing you’ve ever stolen?” Arya asked him shortly after Catelyn made the introductions.</p><p>“Arya!” Her mother looked horrified.</p><p>Mr Baelish chuckled.</p><p>“It’s alright, I’m not offended.” His chuckle died on his lips when he glanced at Catelyn. He returned his attention to Arya and added: “Though I think it’s not proper to talk about it.” </p><p>“It’s not,” Catelyn agreed. “Thief is not something to be proud of.”</p><p>Mr Baelish lowered his gaze. Sansa knew her mother was right, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. She tried to change the subject:</p><p>“I think we should tell Father Seaworth what happened. He might help.”</p><p>Her mother’s face softened upon hearing her, and a small smile tugged at her lips.</p><p>“I think that’s a great idea, dear. We can invite him over after lunch.”</p><p>They didn’t need to pay him a visit. Shortly after they finished their meal, Father Seaworth showed up at their door.</p><p>“Ah, Father Seaworth.” Catelyn gave him a nervous smile as she stepped aside so he could come in. “We were about to go to your house.”</p><p>He raised his eyebrows, a hint of concern flashing across his face.</p><p>“Is something the matter?”</p><p>“Well,” Catelyn clasped her hands before motioning to the drawing room. “We want to introduce you to someone.”</p><p>The other Starks were also in the drawing room. They all stood up when Father Seaworth walked inside.</p><p>Sansa could tell that he’d recognized Mr Baelish, but he didn’t frown. </p><p>“Father Seaworth. This is Mr Baelish, also known as…”</p><p>“As The Mockingbird.” Father Seaworth finished Catelyn’s sentence, his brown eyes on Mr Baelish, his expression affable. “Mr Baelish, I’ve read many things about you, but I never thought I’d meet you in person.” He held out his hand as he added, his tone still kind: “I hope this is not a work-related visit.”</p><p>Mr Baelish chuckled, not offended in the slightest.</p><p>“Well, I’m afraid that it is, though I’m not here to steal anything.”</p><p>“I’m relieved to hear that.” Father Seaworth turned to Catelyn waiting for an explanation.</p><p>“Mr Baelih grew up with me and my siblings. Our ways diverged a long time ago… It’s complicated.”</p><p>“I see.” He looked back at Mr Baelish. “Well, if you’re not here to increase your wealth, but this is still a work-related visit, I gather you’re here to help the Starks recover something.”</p><p>“You’re correct.” Mr Baelish nodded, his expression bright and smug. “The White Raven has stolen a family relic.”</p><p>“The Tully Tiara,” Sansa added. </p><p>Mr Baelish smiled at her briefly before meeting Father Seaworth’s eyes again.</p><p>“Ms Stark has shown me the note The White Raven left,” he went on. “And we’ve reached the conclusion that the next clue is hidden in St. Mary’s Church.” </p><p>“You’ve reached the conclusion?” Ned repeated in an incredulous tone, looking alternatively at her daughter and Mr Baelish. His expression was so comical that Sansa stifled a laugh.</p><p>“I’d love to see that note,” Father Seaworth interrupted. He gave Sansa an apologetic smile and added: “It’s not that I distrust your abilities.”</p><p>“I know,” Sansa returned his smile. “Actually, Mr Baelish and I think it would be a good idea that you helped us solve the clues.”</p><p>“Mr Baelish and you?” Ned’s tone sounded high-pitched. Beside him, her mother looked scandalized.</p><p>“Dad, Father Seaworth and I have solved several mysteries on our own. It’s only natural that we investigate this too. And people won’t be so judgmental when they learn that Mr Baelish is here if Father Seaworth intercedes.”</p><p>Ned turned to his wife. Catelyn sighed.</p><p>“I think Sansa might be right,” she said in a weak voice.</p><p>Sansa held back an exclamation of triumph. Mr Baelish turned his head to her. He looked delighted, as if he’d already found the tiara.</p><p>“Then it’s settled,” Father Seaworth broke the silence. His eyes fell upon Mr Baelish for a brief moment before looking at Sansa. He looked composed, but Sansa had known him for a long time, and could read him. Father Seaworth was as excited as them, but he was trying to hide it for fear of disappointing Ned and Catelyn. “Tell me what you’ve found out so far, please.”</p><p>*</p><p>
  <i>Christmas Eve. St Mary’s Church</i>
</p><p>The competition always started with the kid’s choirs. </p><p>Sansa and Mr Baelish were at the back of the church when the first choir began to sing. Her family was sitting in the first row. Sansa had convinced them that Mr Baelish and she needed to be at the back since this way they’d have a panoramic view.</p><p>Sansa knew that Father Seaworth would like to find the next clue with them, but on this occasion, he must remain on the sidelines. He had to lead the choirs.</p><p>Hopefully they would find the clue before Sansa joined her choir.</p><p>She smiled to herself remembering Mr Baelish’s reaction when he’d learned that she was a member of the women’s choir.</p><p>
  <i>He’d walked past her room when she was practising. The door was opened and he’d seen her singing with a choral song book in her hands. He’d stood in the doorway until she’d finished the song. She’d seen him out of the corner of her eye, and her stomach had fluttered. Others had listened to her as she practised before, but this felt different. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>When she’d finished, she’d turned to him and saw his expression was dazed. He hadn’t spoken right away. When he’d finally done so, his voice had trembled a little.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“If you were a mermaid, I’d have gladly followed your voice beyond this world,” he’d said.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I would have never led you to the Other World, Mr Baelish,” she’d replied with a giggle, her cheeks warmer at his words.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’d smiled, and for several seconds, they’d just stared at each other. They could hear Bran’s and Rickon’s voices in the kitchen, apparently fighting over the last cookie. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Have you ever sailed on a ship?” Sansa had asked partly to break the silence and partly because she was genuinely curious.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes, I own a ship, though I prefer to travel by train.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It had been only a few years since the first steam locomotives had been invented. Sansa hadn’t had the chance to be on a train yet; she’d always traveled by carriage. She’d like to cross the ocean some time, but for now her trips had always been around the country: Bath, London, Southampton…</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She’d wondered what it would be like to travel around the world in his ship; to sleep under that stars and feel the salty air on her skin as every new place appeared before her eyes. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Before their eyes.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She didn’t want their paths diverged after he found the tiara, but she feared that he might not have any reason to keep in touch with her; that he might leave without looking back.</i>
</p><p>*</p><p>The last notes of the first song filled the church as the sun hid. Sansa and Mr Baelish watched the shadow the sun had cast. It was pointing at the entrance to the crypt.</p><p>The next clue was there. </p><p>Sansa reached into her pocket and pulled out the key. Father Seaworth had given her the keys to every door in the church shortly before the choir competition started. She took a candle and turned to Mr Baelish.</p><p>“Shall we?” </p><p>He nodded. His eyes shone with excitement.</p><p>Thankfully the other people were so focused on the choir that no one saw him following Sansa into the crypt.</p><p>They walked down the stone stairs. It was colder in there, and the air was slightly humid. The last sun’s rays were pointing at a sculptural ensemble of a pastoral scene: several shepherd and sheep figures on a pedestal. Sansa brought the candle closer to them. One of the shepherds was holding a crooked stick. </p><p>“Look,” she said. “There’s a note tied around the stick.”</p><p>“I think we’ve found the clue.” Mr Baelish replied as he untied the note. He shifted closer to Sansa to read it, and her heart beat faster. She told herself it was because they were about to learn what the note said, not because they were mere inches apart.</p><p>The note was a series of numbers and characters in the alphabet.</p><p>“A code,” Mr Baelish murmured. He looked up at her and frowned when she saw Sansa giving him a nervous look. “What’s wrong? We can decipher it, we just need some time…”</p><p>“I think I know what it is,” she interrupted him.</p><p>“You know what it is?” he repeated in disbelief.</p><p>“Yes, but I don’t know if it’s good news.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>She sighed before answering:</p><p>“Because it’s one of the lockers from the room where the pieces of evidence and confiscated items are kept in the police station.” </p><p>Mr Baelish lowered the note. </p><p>“Then, it seems we’ll have to pay Inspector Baratheon a visit.” </p><p>“He’s here in the church,” Sansa said. “Her daughter is a member of the kid’s choir.”</p><p>“Well, then we might exchange a few words with him once the competition is over.”</p><p>*</p><p>Sansa forgot about the search as she sang with the other members of her choir. Singing in St. Mary’s Church was magical. It always transported her to another world and brought her a sense of peace. She always felt that nothing could harm there within these walls. </p><p>In front of her, Father Seaworth was moving his arms to the rhythm of the melody, a dreamy expression on his face. Music also brought him joy. He had a beautiful voice too; during their training sessions he often sang with the choirs. His voice was deep and a little raspy. Apart from carol songs, hymns and gregorian chants, he knew many old folk songs, songs that people usually sang in inns and harvest celebrations. </p><p>When the song was over, Sansa joined her family in the first row just as she’d promised them she would. Before sitting down, her gaze met Mr Baelish’s, and the expression on his face told her that he was proud of her performance. She returned his smile as something warm filled her chest.</p><p>She also exchanged a smile with Father Seaworth. She couldn’t wait to tell her about the clue they’d found.</p><p>*</p><p>The kid’s choir and the women’s choir of Kembleford won the Golden Primula in their respective categories. Sansa wished the men’s choir would have won too, but there were many more chances in the future.</p><p>Mr Baelish joined Sansa and her family as people started leaving the church. Father Seaworth also joined them. Sansa showed him and her family the note. Before she could speak, Father Seaworth confirmed her theory:</p><p>“It’s the room where the police keep the pieces of evidence,” he said.”</p><p>“Yes. We should speak to Inspector Baratheon,” Sansa said.</p><p>“If we intend to speak to him now, we should hurry up,” Mr Baelish warned. “He’s leaving.”</p><p>Sansa turned her head and saw Inspector Baratheon and Shireen about to step across the threshold. She rushed to him, and Mr Baelish and Father Seaworth hurried to follow her. They could hear Catelyn asking them to wait, but none of them obeyed.</p><p>“Inspector Baratheon!” Sansa called him.</p><p>He stopped upon hearing her. Slowly, he turned around. His eyes narrowed with suspicion when he looked at her, and his lips formed a tight line when he spotted Father Seaworth behind her. </p><p>“It’s Christmas Eve!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Have some mercy…” his voice trailed off when he recognized Mr Baelish. “It can’t be possible…” he murmured to himself. He looked at Sansa and Father Seaworth alternatively. “You both are trying to kill me, don’t you?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Inspector Baratheon, but The White Raven has stolen us a family relic. Mr Baelish and Father Seaworth are helping us find it.”</p><p>Her words seemed to placate him a little, though he kept looking at her with a wary look on his face. He stepped aside to allow other people to leave the church and looked at Mrs Tyrell, who stood beside his daughter.</p><p>“Could Shireen stay with you for a little while, Mrs Tyrell? I’ll pick her up as soon as possible.”</p><p>“Of course.” The woman touched Shireen’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “I shall show you my Christmas decoration, and you’ll take a basket of scones home. I baked them this morning.” </p><p>Shireen’s face lit up. She loved Mrs Tyrell’s scones.</p><p>Inspector Baratheon thanked the woman. Once Mrs Tyrell and Shireen left, Sansa handed him the note they’d found in the crypt, giving him an apologetic smile. He took it with a sigh.</p><p>His hand tightened around the piece of paper when he read it.</p><p>“He had walked inside my police station.” His nostrils flared. </p><p>“He uses disguises,” Father Seaworth said softly.</p><p>“I know.” He muttered through clenched teeth. He put the note in his coat pocket, a look of determination on his face. Now this was something personal. A thief had been in the police station of Kembleford and no one had noticed, not even himself who was in charge. “Come with me.” He told them. “We’re going to fetch their next clue. He isn’t going to get away with this. He had entered the wrong police station.” He turned around and crossed the threshold.</p><p>Father Seaworth, Mr Baelish and Sansa followed him as the other Stark members stood there, not knowing what was going on.</p><p>*</p><p>“Sergeant.” Stannis called Sergeant Goodfellow when he entered the police station.</p><p>Sergeant Goodfellow straightened his back.</p><p>“Yes, Inspector?” </p><p>“i need to know what’s inside this locker.” He handed over the piece of paper to him.</p><p>Sergeant Goodfellow opened a book and searched the code. He looked back at Inspector Baratheon, confused.</p><p>“It’s empty, sir.”</p><p>“He must have put something inside,” Father Seaworth jumped in.</p><p>Inspector Baratheon looked at him with annoyance.</p><p>“I’d reached that conclusion myself, Father, but thank you for enlightening me.”</p><p>“Do you want me to go fetch what’s inside the locker, sir?</p><p>Inspector Baratheon turned to Goodfellow again.</p><p>“Yes, please.”</p><p>“I’ll be back right back.” He began walking away but paused. “Oh, I almost forgot, Merry Christmas Eve.” </p><p>Inspector Baratheon looked at him as if he were making fun of him, but Mr Baelish, Sansa and Father Seaworth thanked him and wished him a Merry Christmas Eve.</p><p>*</p><p>Goodfellow went back carrying a stone skull, a pair of ballet shoes and a note. </p><p>Inspector Baratheon took the note from his hands and read aloud:</p><p><i>Watch Don Juan repent his sins and take a breath of fresh air when the dance is over. Pansies are beautiful at this time of the year, don’t you think so?</i> </p><p>“The Mayor’s house,” Father Seaworth said. “He’s throwing a party this Saturday to celebrate his wife’s birthday, and he’s hired a ballet company. They’re going to play <i>Don Juan</i> by Gluck. The skull is one of the most iconic elements of this play. It symbolizes The Stone Guest, a character that has appeared in many legends over the centuries. Those legends are about irreverence and punishment. Some investigators think that one of the story seeds of the myth of <i>Don Juan</i> is a legend about an irreverent boy who gave a skull a kick.”</p><p>“Thanks for the Literature Class,” Inspector Baratheon interrupted. “I suppose the next clue is hidden in the garden, then.”</p><p>“It seems so.” Father Seaworth nodded. He didn’t seem annoyed by Inspector Baratheon’s curtness. “His flower garden is one of the most breathtaking in Kembleford.”</p><p>“I’m glad I brought my suits with me,” Mr Baelish said with a smirk.</p><p>Goodfellow’s eyes widened as if watching Mr Baelish for the first time.</p><p>“You are The Mockingbird!” he realized.</p><p>“Good job, Sergeant,” Inspector Baratheon said ironically. “But it would be more helpful if you could find the other thief. Much to my regret, we don’t have any incriminating evidence against Mr Baelish, although I’m certain he has many artworks hidden somewhere.” Inspector Baratheon turned to Mr Baelish as he spoke as if requesting him to give him the location of those artworks. Mr Baelish kept eye contact, his face composed.</p><p>Inspector Baratheon tightened his jaw and looked away. </p><p>“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mr Baelish turned to Goodfellow and offered him his hand.</p><p>Goodfellow glanced at Inspector Baratheon hesitantly before shaking Mr Baelish’s hand.</p><p>“Now that we all have been introduced, we should see the mayor,” Father Seaworth broke the silence.</p><p>Mr Baelish’s eyes found Sansa’s when they left the police station. Their houses were near, so they walked in the same direction.</p><p>Mr Baelish and Sansa took the lead. They walked faster than the others.</p><p>“Do you enjoy watching ballet, Ms Stark?” Mr Baelish asked in a low voice, so the others couldn’t hear their conversation.</p><p>“Yes, I’ve watched several in London, though I’ve never watched Don Juan,” she replied. “How about you?”</p><p>“I have.” His eyes flickered. “Once in a theater in London.”</p><p>“Then you won’t be very excited about watching it again.” Sansa smiled.</p><p>Mr Baelish smiled too.</p><p>“Every performance is different,” he said. “That’s the magic of a lively performance. Besides, I have never had the pleasure to enjoy one with such a lovely companion.”</p><p>Sansa knew he was flirting with her, but she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him.</p><p>“Do you mean Inspector Baratheon and Father Seaworth?” she whispered, a wicked smile on her face.</p><p>Mr Baelish let out a cheerful laugh.</p><p>“I bet they’re wonderful companions too, but I was referring to a woman whose voice can entice people to do anything,” he said.</p><p>She smiled, touched by his words. Behind them, Inspector Baratheon and Father Seaworth were talking about something. Inspector Baratheon’s face had softened, and he seemed to enjoy their conversation.</p><p>Next Saturday they all would attend the mayor’s party. They were very different people, but they formed a good team, Sansa thought.</p><p>Next Saturday, they all would attend the mayor’s party and find the next clue. But tonight they won’t solve any mysteries. Tonight, they’d return home and sing carol songs, drink eggnog and place the presents under their respective Christmas trees.</p><p>She leaned closer to Mr Baelish as they walked.</p><p>“I’m glad you can celebrate Christmas with us,” she whispered.</p><p>She felt his knuckles brushing against the back of her hand.</p><p>“Me too, sweetling.”</p>
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